Ada
by Sabby87
Summary: A short series about Aragorn facing the joys and sorrows of fatherhood. 12/20/08: CHAPTER 2, "ELDARION". Aragorn assists Arwen as she gives birth to their first child. Rated T to be safe. Any feedback is appreciated!
1. Musings of a King

**Sorry but I had a problem while updating and I had to *delete* the original story :( ... thanks to everyone who had read and reviewed it!**

**A/N:** **aka "Musings of a King". I have changed the title because I am going to write more chapters, so "Musings of a King" is now just the title of the first part. **

**11/22/08 *UPDATE*: I have added something at the end of the first chapter, thanks to EHC for the tip! Please read and review!**

**---**

**ADA***

**1. Musings of**** a King**

"Estel?"

No answer.

"Meleth-nin**?"

Aragorn felt the sudden touch of a hand on his chin, and he slowly turned to meet his wife's worried gaze.

"What troubles you, Estel?" Arwen asked.

"Nothing."

She did not answer. He knew she had read the lie in his eyes.

"I am just tired." He had turned away, but he could still feel her gaze upon him. If only she stopped hanging over him like some kind of rapacious bird.

_So that's what I think of my wife?_

It wasn't _her_ problem. It wasn't her fault. How on Arda could she have imagined what those five innocent little words would do to him?

"_We're having a baby"._

Aragorn heard a faint sigh and a rustle of silk. Arwen wasn't there anymore. She must have gone to bed, alone.

Once again.

He tried to remember the precise moment when she had told him about her pregnancy. Bliss had overwhelmed him, he had hugged her, he had kissed her, he had felt happy like never before. He had always desired a child.

And he still did. There were some blessed moments in which a sort of quiet joy, more profound than intense, chased away the black clouds of his doubts. But he couldn't help feeling as if, as months had gone by, a deepening abyss had opened up behind his shoulders, separating him forever from the warmth and the safety of his life with Arwen and throwing him into an universe were everything was fear.

Orcs, trolls and swordfights he could handle; he was not so sure about this tiny little creature who would demand his love and his attentions.

_How do you learn to be a father?_

He heard the sound of distant footsteps in the corridor. The servants were retiring. Suddenly a sense of heavy tiredness fell over him, pervading his limbs. He felt numb. He stood up and headed for his bedchamber.

--

Arwen's eyes were closed, her breath regular. He silently laid down beside her. She stirred lightly.

_What about Arwen? _

If possible, pregnancy had made her even more beautiful, but she was always tired, and her mood was often shifting. She was sad more often, and he felt responsible for it. He hated himself for that.

_What does she think of me?_

He had not the courage to talk openly to her about his doubts. He feared she would consider him unworthy of her.

_Is it really better to pretend everything is fine?_

The truth was, he had never felt more fragile. And never had he felt more distant from her. It was not a physical distance. There had been times, before their marriage, when they had not seen each other for months, even _years_… and yet, he had always dwelled in the deepest part of her soul.

And now there was this baby she was carrying. Between Arwen and their son, or daughter, growing in her womb there was a relationship so deep, a love of a quality Aragorn did not feel able to understand fully. That was the love he was asked to have for their baby. That was the love he desperately _wanted _to have for their baby… and yet, even though everything that separated them was just millimeters of skin, there was no way he could reach his unborn child.

_Does my baby even know I exist?_

Almost unconsciously, he gently laid his hand on Arwen's belly. And then he felt it. The tiniest "thud". He gasped. Arwen stirred again, and woke up. She looked at his face, then at his hand. She smiled.

"Arwen, it –" he was breathless. Arwen's eyes were sparkling with a light that was almost dazzling.

"Our child is kicking," she said. "It wants to greet its father."

Aragorn's hand was still placed on her belly. Another "thud". To his ears, it had the sound of glory.

---

He was speechless for some minutes. His breath had fastened in overexcitement, his face had relaxed into a smile for the first time in weeks.

The tangled labyrinth of his thoughts had dissolved, its impenetrable walls had been breached by those feeble hits whose sound seemed now to fill the room and his own heart, penetrating to the depths of his innermost soul and nourishing it with a delight he had never known.

He pulled Arwen into a tight embrace, as if everything he felt for her now, this strange mixture of love, remorse and need for forgiveness could be transmitted to her through his arms. She laughed, and the crystalline sound of her voice vibrated through his spirit.

Then he talked to her, and every word he said, every part of his torment he shared with her was a rush of fresh air into his chest. He talked and she listened for minutes, hours, or maybe years.

"Goheno nin***, Arwen." he repeated. "You have given up your_ world_ for me, and I am so preoccupied with myself that-"

Arwen placed a finger on his lips and kissed his cheek.

"Avaro naeth****, Estel. You don't have to explain me anything. I only need you to be by my side… by _our_ side. And I know you are." she stopped for a moment. "Just as I am always with you." she slowly passed her fingers on the pendant he wore around his neck.

"I love you, Arwen". he said. "Both of you."

"This is why I know you will be a good father."

---

It was almost dawn, but he was still awake, holding his sleeping wife into his arms, an ineffable tenderness on his face. He did not know yet if he was ready to be a father. But now he was not alone.

_I thank you, Eru. Thanks for them._

_---_

* "Father", "Dad" in Sindarin

** "my love"

*** "forgive me"

**** "Don't worry"


	2. Eldarion

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, I am recovering from a serious corneal abrasion. I hope you enjoy this as my Christmas present for all you LotR fans here on this site. Let me know what you think about this! :)**

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED T, since it deals with issues related to childbirth.**

**2. Eldarion**

"Are you afraid?" Arwen asked. Her voice was reduced to a thin whisper, but there was a certain serenity in her tone that he could not help but envy. She would give birth to their baby in hours, maybe even minutes… but it was he who felt dizzy and lightheaded. He really wished he could just answer "no", but for some reasons his lips seemed unable to articulate the word.

Any word, for that matter.

"Don't worry. I'm here." he finally managed to say, struggling to keep a reassuring tone. Arwen smiled, holding his hand tight.

They had talked much about him being present at childbirth. She had never tried to oblige him, she had not even had to _convince_ him. It was _he_ who had come up with the idea in the first place, he who had defied centuries of Gondorian tradition… and his own nerves. He remembered actually having said something on the line of "Nothing on Arda could prevent me from desiring to be by my wife's side in the moment that will transform our life forever".

_Oh, you romantic fool._

Only now was he beginning to understand Arwen's repeated advice not to take "a rush decision". The first time she had said so - even if she had carefully avoided to express any open preference not to condition him - he had even thought she might prefer to be alone with the midwife during childbirth. The way she was now clutching at his hand told him otherwise, and he was forced to realize she had simply known better.

Not that he regretted his choice, not at all. That moment would indeed transform their life together, and he still wanted to be by her side. He was just a bit more on edge than he himself would ever want to admit.

_Come on, Aragorn, you have seen lots of things worse than this._

Why "worse"? That was not a bad thing. At least, it should not be a bad thing.

_Arwen will be fine. The baby will be fine._

Surely the fact that he was the only man in the room did not help to make him feel comfortable. There were at least five women, apparently perfectly on top of the situation, hurrying in and out of the room with hot water, covers and ointments. None of them seemed to care much about his presence, and one even pushed him gently aside as she made her way to the fireplace, where she laid some wood to prevent the fire from going out.

He had had to let go of Arwen's hand to let the woman pass, so that now he was just standing in a corner of the room, feeling useless like a dirty old cloth, a stranger in his own bedroom.

Then, all of a sudden, the women vanished, the door closed and he found himself alone in the room with Arwen and the midwife, a matron in her fifties whose rubicund face emanated a sense of calm and safety. Everything was quiet. The room was silent, except for the soft crackling of the fire.

"I – I think the baby's coming," Arwen said faintly. For the first time, he heard a twinge of anxiety in her voice.

"Don't worry milady, I'm here to help you. It will be alright. Take a deep breath." the midwife said gently. "Are you ready?" she smiled. Arwen nodded.

She searched her husband's gaze. They exchanged a long, intense look. Arwen smiled at Aragorn, reaching for his hand. He hurried to her. The midwife raised her eyes to him, apparently striving to find something to say to him. She studied him for some seconds before turning back to Arwen, as if his presence were an unexpected minor accident she had no time to deal with.

"At the next contraction you must push, milady. Push with all your strength." She squeezed Aragorn's hand and he felt her body stiffen up, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Then she screamed. Fear reverberated through Aragorn's body as her suffering flowed unleashed through his own veins flooding his soul, his heart stopping for a split second and then starting to beat wildly. At that precise moment the realization struck him that, as a daughter of the Eldar raised in the safety of Rivendell, she had never known true physical pain. He had known many of her people during their exile in Middle-Earth, but the sense of melancholy and spiritual weariness that he had often seen on their faces had nothing, _nothing_ in common with the entirely bodily suffering which was now pervading her every bone. He could not help but thinking that this was a part of the burden she had accepted to carry when she had chosen to share the fate of Men, and an unbearable thought crossed his mind.

_She did not want to share the fate _of Men_. She wanted to share _my_ fate._

_Did she know what it would mean? _

He struggled with all his strength to stay calm, to prevent his torment from showing on his face. He must be firm, for Arwen and their baby. But what could he do? The sight of her pain was ripping his soul apart and, what was worse, there was nothing he could do to ease it.

_I'm here, meleth._

He took her hand to his lips and kissed it three, four, five times, as if he wanted to pour the warmth and vigor of his body into hers. But her elven eyes were veiled, her face pale.

"Don't give up, my lady Arwen," the midwife said. "I know it hurts. But you must do it again. Push milady, help your baby."

"I… I can't." Arwen answered feebly, tears now rolling copiously down her face.

The midwife remained silent for some minutes, pondering the situation. Arwen's screams had now turned into prolonged moans. She was trembling. Her breath grew faster and faster, until she was almost gasping for air.

"Your majesty," It took Aragorn a while to realize the midwife was actually talking to him. Her tone had become more urgent, and she was looking at him straight in the face. "You can help the Queen. Her back. Support it."

Aragorn sat carefully on the bed behind Arwen and wrapped her in his arms, gently laying her upon his chest. Her head was placed right against his heart. He thought of the times when he had held her the same way in the luxuriant gardens of Rivendell, and as he muttered a silent prayer to Eru he felt a new strength pervade his body. His heartbeat was now deep and regular, Arwen's own breath slowly deepening and harmonizing with its pace.

"You can do it, milady." The midwife said softly. "Everything will be fine." Aragorn felt her body shake against his as another strong contraction came. Holding his hands tight, she heaved a deep sigh and finally started pushing.

---

He was still holding her. In her arms was their first child, a boy, wrapped in a soft cloth. His wide grey eyes were squinting at the light.

"Behold the future King," she said. Any trace of exhaustion in her voice had vanished, and brightness and joy seemed to emanate from her and renew the whole world. Aragorn smiled and kissed the back of her head. "I wish my father could see him." She paused. "He would understand now. Everything that is good has not vanished from this world." She was lost in her thoughts for an instant. Aragorn kissed her again and looked at the baby, his eyes filled with an ineffable tenderness. Arwen's gaze went from her husband to their newborn child. "He will be handsome," she smiled. "He looks like you."

_Does he?_

Aragorn studied his son. Yes, there was definitely something of him in the baby. The shape of his face, maybe. Or was it the nose? At the same time, however, his tiny features had a delicate quality to them, which could never have sprung out of the mortal race.

_A true son of the Eldar._

"Eldarion*." Arwen startled at the sound of his voice.

"Man?**"

"Eldarion," he repeated. "What do you think of it as a name for our son?"

"I thought I had married a Man, ruler of Men." she laughed.

"It's curious, I thought I had married an Elven princess. Besides, it was not me who gave birth to him."

"I don't think I would have done it without you," she remained silent for some seconds. "I'm glad you were there."

"And I am glad I was there." They kissed. "But we are changing topics. So, what do you think?" he insisted after a while.

"How did you come up with this name?"

"Do you like it or not?"

"I do, but-"

"It is settled, then."

"Eldarion be it." she said. "Just remember he is also your son when he cries at night."

"I will," he chuckled.

"I love you."

Arwen reclined her head on Aragorn's shoulder, and soon after she was asleep. He could not lift his eyes off the baby.

"Eldarion-nin," he whispered. Eldarion looked at him with his bright eyes.

_Elrond's eyes. Arwen's eyes._

Yes, his child was a son of the Elves. But Aragorn felt grateful to be the Man meant to be his father.

---

---

---

* "Son of the Eldar".

** "What?".


End file.
